Dream Alley
by fictionalwhims
Summary: A smutty one shot from "Helmet." Jessica has a very naughty dream about Nick set in a dark alley in Victorian London.
**A/N:** I'm not sure if this is the story that everyone wanted...but I hope you like it anyway. I'm going to preface this by saying that I am in no way an expert on the Victorian era, so I left out a lot of details. Some of the dialogue is no doubt completely wrong for the time period too, but I thought you'd all forgive me since this is Jess' dream. I kept the football helmet in because Jess specifically mentions it being a part of the dream in the episode. Other than that, I hope you enjoy...it's pretty much plotless smut but it sure was fun to write!

 **Dream Alley**

In fog such as this, one couldn't be too careful. Jessica knew that the streets of London festered with pickpockets and worse, and she was not anxious to become a victim. It was highly improper to leave her father's suite of rooms without an escort, but she would not have her maid know of her business tonight. She dressed warmly in her plainest dress and descended into night air as thick as pea soup. Within moments she was entirely shrouded, hidden from windows and barely able to see a few feet in front of her. The shadows were intimidating, but she kept her chin up and moved quickly. She was lucky in that the way was known to her. If she hadn't been so sure of her destination, she wouldn't have set out at all.

She avoided the cabstands, although she could hear the horses snorting and pawing the cobblestones. They were as nervous in the fog as she was. Trying not to frighten herself further, she pressed on with long, unladylike strides that would have earned her a scolding if her mother had seen.

It wasn't far, but it seemed to take a long time for her to walk the ten blocks to his familiar little tavern. A painted gryphon hung over the door, which had always taken as the name of the place though the sign did not have any words. Well, why should it? Very few of the patrons could read, and the painted sign got the point across satisfactorily.

With a cautious if entirely unfruitful glance over her shoulder, Jessica pushed into the tavern. The air was thick with tobacco smoke and smelled of cheap beer and burning oil from the lamps. The few people that noticed her entrance watched as she made her way to the bar. A young man was scrubbing the counters, and he pointed her in the direction of the cellar when she enquired as to the whereabouts of her _friend._ He gave her an impertinent grin at the word 'friend,' but thankfully did not comment.

Chin high, she strode to the cellar door and went through without a backward glance, although she could feel the eyes of a few of the less savory men follow her. Once the door latched closed behind her, she gave a little shiver. This was the last time. It had to be the last time.

She smoothed down the deep blue petticoats and wished to God for the thousandth time that she didn't have to bother with her infernal corset. She took off her hair covering and unpinned her curls, letting them fall nearly to her elbows. That was how Nick liked it best, and if this was the last time, she might as well make the best of it.

She made her way carefully down the steps into the cellar. It was a small, warm room and he was standing near the center. He'd cast off his jacket and stood only in a vest and shirtsleeves, the cuffs of which were stained with beer. His clothes were dusty, he'd obviously been moving stores around in order to take inventory.

The…c _ontraption_ on his head did give her pause. It was some sort of helmet, covering all but his face. There was some sort of cage on the front, no doubt to protect his jaw without limiting his field of vision. It was exceedingly strange, and she was tempted to turn and run all the way back to her rooms. But he glanced up and his eyes instantly heated at the sight of her long curls, unbound and framing her like rich silk.

"Jessica," he said. He took a step toward her, shrugging out of his vest and reaching for the hem of his shirt to pull it off. She hesitated near the steps.

"Nicholas…Before we begin, I should tell you—this must needs be the last time." She couldn't keep herself from closing the gap between them. "I run a horrible risk, coming to you here. And if you came to our apartments you would be horribly punished. I'm not sure why I do it." Her voice was embarrassingly breathless as he reached for her, pulling her tight against his chest.

"You know e _xactly_ why you do it," Nicholas replied in a low growl. She shivered and his fingers tightened on her arms. "You won't be able to stop. Neither of us can stop seeing each other, no matter how dangerous it is. Because _you love me._ "

"Love you? You're a madman as well as a cad." She should have pulled away, not least because he looked ridiculous in that silly shoved at the bottom of the helmet. "This _will be_ the last time. I can and shall resist you, for the good of us both."

Nicholas pulled the helmet off at last. He stared down at her with disheveled hair and a reckless, cheeky grin that made her itch to slap him. It also made her ache for him to kiss her, to lick her breasts and explore her secret places with fingers that were maddeningly skilled.

"You have never been able to before, I do not think you could even now," he replied. His voice was gravely with desire as he tugged at the laces of her dress. She could feel his fingertips scraping the skin of her back and she bit her lip, shivering.

He was right, damn him—she had never been able to resist those eyes, that wicked smile that promised her so much pleasure. Being with him was reckless and stupid. She thought of the men upstairs drinking beer in the tavern: no doubt they had guessed what her errand was this night. Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment and she pulled away from him.

"No. No, this was a mistake." He'd nearly undone the back of her dress, but it held together as she gathered up her skirts and made her way toward the cellar door. "I shall return to my father's apartments. Do not think to follow me."

Nicholas scoffed at her. "You can't be serious, Jessica."

"I'm e _ntirely_ serious," she responded, and a second later she'd stepped back into the dark, filthy alley behind the tavern. She'd exited through the back door, where deliveries were made. The narrow lane was claustrophobic and filthy, and for a moment she lost her bearings. She turned this way and that before hefting her dress even higher. She picked a direction and was about to walk in that direction when Nicholas' warm hand closed over her arm and spun her around.

"Don't leave." His eyes were pleading. "Don't deny us what we both want. What we need."

She looked up into his eyes, her chest heaving against her bodice. He dropped his mouth to hers, tangling his hands in her hair as he stroked his tongue over her lips. She raised her hands to push at his chest, to push him away: instead, she dug her fingers into his shirt and began tearing at it.

"Damn you," she whispered against his lips, desperate for him as she always was. Every sensible thought flew from her head as she ripped his shirt off over his head.

"Here?" he asked, but she silenced him with her mouth.

"Hurry," she demanded, and his hands flew to her laces again, tugging them free of the loops and dragging her dress off with one harsh yank. It fell into the offal that covered the cobblestones, the mud ruining the fabric. She didn't care, all she wanted was for him to touch her, to soothe the ache that came whenever he wasn't inside of her.

They both tore at all the buttons and ribbons and fastenings that made up her ridiculous clothing, and he yanked her bodice down as soon as he could and covered one perfect, pink nipple with his mouth. He sucked it hard, then lathed it with his tongue as she arched and cried out. She nearly ripped the buttons off of his trousers, and with one hard tug they were around his knees and she was grasping his long, hard length in her hand.

"Jessica!" He gripped her hair, pulling a little bit as she tugged at him. His hips jerked up against her hand and she could see he was already leaking a little precum. She licked her lips and he groaned.

"Minx," he accused, pulling the last of her infuriating undergarments away from her body. She stood before him in nothing but her shoes, naked and proud in the middle of this filthy alley. Her hair tumbled all around her, dark enough to make her skin glow in comparison, and he gave thanks that it was so dark and foggy. He didn't want anyone else to see her this way, he wanted her nakedness all to himself. His cock was so hard it was twitching.

"You're beautiful," he managed in a choked voice. "An Aphrodite."

She grasped his erection again, and he sat on one of the wooden boxes stacked in the alley so his knees didn't betray him and give out. Her lips closed over the head of his cock and he could have sworn that angels were singing.

Jessica's nimble little tongue teased the underside of his erection, meanwhile her fingers rolled and squeezed his balls in a way that made him try and grind up into her mouth. She was moaning around him, and the vibrations were enough to make his eyes roll back in his head. She slid her mouth down him, taking him in as far as she could before pulling back for breath. She began bobbing her head up and down his length, occasionally pulling free with a popping sound that made him want to turn her over and fuck her until she couldn't walk. He gripped her hair instead, guiding her head up and down at a pace that was driving him steadily crazy.

When he could stand it no more, he pulled her up and into his lap. She whimpered as she straddled him, reaching down to wrap her fingers around him once more. She ran his cock up and down her entrance, using him to tease her clit as she rolled her hips against him. He was thrusting up, trying to push into her, but every time he got close she pulled away just enough. He was getting desperate to get inside of her, and his hands gripped her hips as he tried to pull her down on him.

"Not yet," she said, biting at his ear. He jerked up against her again with a throaty groan. She continued to rub herself up and down his cock, coating him in her wetness. She was nearing her climax: her fingers were digging into his shoulder and her hips were losing their rhythm as she brought herself closer and closer to the edge.

"Come," he demanded. He pinched her nipples and slid his tongue up her throat. "Come for me and then I'm going to take you."

She came hard right on command, her body convulsing against him as bliss overtook her. Christ, he had never seen anything so perfect. She was still shaking with aftershocks as he slid deep into her. She cried out his name as he pulled her down, grinding up into her.

"You're perfect, you're fucking perfect," he told her, burying his face in her neck. She began to ride him, slow at first but the desperation rose again quickly. She was bouncing in his lap, gasping for air as he met her with sharp, upward thrusts. His tongue curled around one of her nipples again and he urged her to fuck him harder with his other on her ass.

"Say it," he growled against her breast. " _Say it_."

"No," she replied, hardly able to get the syllable out in between her moans of pleasure.

He ground hard up into her, letting go of her hip to tease her clit with rough fingertips. "Say it, Jessica."

"I—oh God, oh _God!—_ I love you, oh God, Nicholas, _I love you!"_

His thrusts were growing wild as his climax approached, and as soon as those precious words left her lips, he let go. He came hard, holding her hips down against his as he bucked up into her with desperate groans he couldn't control. He was dimly aware of her orgasming as well, her back arching as spasms shook her, her walls milking his cock with each wave of pleasure.

She was trembling when she came back to her senses. It was cold in the alley, though Nicholas' body was warm. She could hardly believe what she'd just done—outside in an alley!—but she knew one thing: she could not live without him.

He stroked her hair back from her face and tucked her under his chin. "I love you too, Jessica," he said, and she pulled free so that she could kiss him, and then—

Jessica snapped awake in her bed in Los Angeles, her heart pounding and her body aching. _What the hell was that?_ she thought without a trace of sleepiness. She was not going to rest anymore tonight, not after _that_.

"Oh God," she groaned, still hearing dream Nick's last words in her head. "This is so, so bad."

She did the only thing she could think of to do: she went to get Cece. Only her best friend would be able to help her make sense out of that insane dream.


End file.
